As it turned out, getting the kid...Diggs...to give up the stolen tool had been the easy part.

Blye wanted to give him a more thorough physical, now that he was conscious, but he wasn’t having any of it. He shrunk back, hiding behind Maggie, forcing her to take the plunge.

“Come on kid,” she sighed, “you can watch me go first. It’ll be fine, I promise.” She held out her hand, coaxing him to join her, though it was almost a minute before he worked up the courage to grip her palm. Blye looked almost gleeful at the prospect of having new guinea pigs…patients...to torture.

She made him promise to sit still and not run off while she changed into an examination gown. If he’d been ship-born she wouldn’t have bothered, you learned early on aboard a cramped vessel that space and privacy were luxuries few could afford, but since she had no idea if he was used to the sight of skin she erred on the side of caution. Dressing as fast as she could, she opened the door to find him waiting outside. “Jesus kid, it was five minutes,” she groaned, rolling her eyes, as she led him back to the examination area, making him take a seat as she sat herself down on the cot.

“Now open wide,” Blye commanded, as Maggie reminded herself yet again why she was doing this. It was all pretty standard, though she’d tried to balk at the blood test.

“You already have his blood sample,” she complained, as the medic gave her a withering gaze.

“We need to monitor him closely for the next several days,” she pointed out, “and not just because of the toxin, but also the malnourishment. I admit he’s bounced back remarkably well, but he’s not out of the woods yet.”

Maggie eyed her as she swabbed her vein. “Why do we still say that?” she wondered out loud. “You ever seen a forest?”

“No, I haven’t...unless you count from orbit,” Blye admitted. “I guess some things just get saved.”

Glancing over at Diggs, who was watching the procedure in rapt attention, she forced a smile on her face. “See? Nothing to it,” she lied, wishing the Troisième would just hurry already. The young woman had a deft touch though, she had to give her that, hardly noticing the needle.

During the exam, she paused as she palpitated her stomach. “Some scar tissue here,” Blye mentioned. “Anything I should know about?”

“Just an old injury,” she flared, before reeling it back in. “It’s long healed.” Nodding, the young medic continued, as Diggs looked on with quiet concern.

She wrapped up the exam about twenty minutes later. “Nothing stands out,” she admitted, “though I wish the scanner was working. Once I get the blood tests back, I should be able to give you a better answer.”

“Still no word about that emitter,” Maggie reported, standing back up. “And you can skip the blood work. I told you, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Blye smirked, before crouching down to speak to Diggs. “Are you ready, young man?” she smiled.

Diggs looked to Maggie, awaiting her approval. “It’s okay, squirt,” she nodded. “See? No big deal.” She spread out her arms and pirouetted around for his inspection.

Still not entirely convinced, he let out a heavy sigh and dragged himself over to the cot she’d just vacated, plopping down as he wrung every bit of angst out of the request.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Maggie chuckled. “Puberty’s right around the corner.”

“It’s hard to say, given his lack of a proper diet, but I’d estimate his age to be somewhere between ten and thirteen, based on development,” Blye agreed.

Diggs watched the exchange, though he still had yet to utter more than two words in a row. “Don’t suppose you know how old you are?” Maggie asked him, earning her a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, I figured,” she nodded. “Been on your own for a while, haven’t ya?” Another shrug, as she winced. “Well, don’t you worry, you got people lookin’ out for you now.”

Blye glanced up from the examination, giving her an unreadable look. “I’m gonna get changed,” she said, heading for the shower.

That got a reaction. Diggs was off like a shot, clutching at her hand and staring up at her with big, sorrowful eyes. “Oh, jeez,” she sighed. “Look, I gotta get dressed. I’ll be right back, okay?”

It was most definitely not okay, as he shook his head making tiny mewling sounds. “Come on, you can stand outside the door like you did last time,” she told him, only for him to shake his head even harder.

“Maybe you’d better wait until he lies down,” Blye suggested.

“I swear, some days it does not pay to get up,” she sighed. “Fine, I won’t go,” she told him, “but you have to promise me you’ll do what Blye says, all right?”

Peeking back at the medic, he nodded. “Good...now go sit down and let her finish,” she told him, taking a seat herself. He did as she asked him, watching the Tinker like a hawk as Blye went back to work. Since she’d been monitoring him since his arrival, it went much faster than her own physical had.

“That’s it, all done,” she smiled. “That didn’t hurt a bit, now did it?” Diggs shook his head in reply, but it was a grudging admission.

“So?” Maggie asked.

“I’ll want to keep a close eye on his electrolytes, as I mentioned, but considering all he’s been through he’s in remarkably good health,” she said, somewhat surprised. “I expected much worse.”

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“Like you said, kid’s a fighter,” Maggie smirked. Diggs grinned back at her…only for that smile to turn into a shriek as he jumped up on the cot, hissing and spitting like an angry cat.

“Woah, take it easy kid!” Maggie said in alarm, looking over her shoulder to see what had agitated him. A cluster of Azha stared back at her, their tall skinny frames wavering like reeds in a stiff breeze as they jabbered and buzzed at each other.

“Git out of here! Scat!” Maggie shouted, waving her arms and placing her body between Diggs and the aliens. They scattered like cockroaches, disappearing a heartbeat later, as she turned her attention back to the boy, his hackles still raised as if he were prepared to do battle.

“Guess you don’t much care for them, do you?” she asked, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Can’t say I blame you. But they’re gone now, and we ain’t gonna let ‘em hurt you.” His narrow chest heaved as the adrenaline surge coursed through his veins, but as the two women continued to talk to him in gentle tones, he relaxed. Blye wrangled him a protein shake to drink, and once he polished that off his eyelids drooped.

“Reckon somebody’s ready for some downtime,” she chuckled, giving his tousled mop of hair a playful rub. “Got someplace he can rack out? Away from the Azha?”

“I can have Prash and Joona set up a couple of cots in the supply room,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Probably the safest place, considering.”

“Woah, wait a second here,” she protested, “safest? You remember what happened in there a few hours ago, right? And who said anything about two cots?”

“Maggie,” the medic sighed, “in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s imprinted on you. If I try to separate you now, he’ll either have a screaming fit, or he’ll bolt. Neither is acceptable.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll leave it to you to decide what’s safe and what isn’t in there. I realize it’s not ideal...it’s just the best of several bad options.”

“I am too damn old to play babysitter,” the Tinker bellyached, until she felt a small hand take hers once more. Maggie sighed as she looked down into those big mismatched eyes of his, surrendering in defeat. “All right, bunky,” she grumbled, “but when I tell you not to touch something, you leave it the hell alone. You got me?”

Diggs nodded eagerly, a toothy grin breaking out across his face. “Just give me a few minutes to have those cots moved,” Blye told her, rising to her feet, heading off in search of the Sixièmes, as Maggie gave her new charge a sour look.

“Just what the hell did I do to deserve this?” she muttered.

----------------------------------------

It didn’t take long for the two orderlies to shift the cots, and for Diggs to fall asleep. “He’s exhausted,” Blye whispered, shutting the door as he slept. “Poor kid’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah...reckon he has, at that,” Maggie agreed. “He sure don’t talk much.”

“He’s suffering from cognitive impairment,” she explained, “because of being isolated from his own kind for so long. The malnourishment only makes it worse. In fact...I believe he’s borderline feral.” The Tinker looked at her. “I realize it’s not an official diagnosis, but it explains the limited language skills, the threat display we saw when he spotted the Azha...and why he’s impressed himself on you.”

“That’s a problem,” Maggie grimaced. “I can’t be dragging a kid around. So how do we fix that?”

A dark look crossed the medic’s face. “Walk with me,” she said, leaving the area and heading through the ward until they exited out the rear of the building. There was a small plot of dirt carved out debris scattered everywhere...the garden, she assumed, as Blye came to a halt.

“You need to decide, and you need to do it today,” she snapped, catching her off guard. “The longer you stay with him, the deeper the connection grows. So if you’re leaving, do it now...while I can still contain the damage.”

“Damage? What damage?” Maggie couldn’t understand her sudden anger and was struggling to find her balance.

“That child has lost everything,” she said with barely controlled fury, pointing back at the makeshift hospital. “He almost died, and by some miracle, you found him and brought him here. And for the first time in God knows how long, he has a family again.” The Troisième’s eyes bored into hers like laser-drills. “In fact, he’s found a mother…you,” she snarled, jabbing her finger into her chest, “and now you’re just going to run away? Rip the single human attachment he’s made from him?”

Blye took a moment to calm herself, as Maggie felt her own anger rise. “If you leave now...he’ll scream, he’ll cry, he’ll be a goddamn mess...but it will pass. But if you stay another week, a month, however long it is...when you go, you’ll shatter him.” She shook her head, each word sounding like an accusation. “And I’m not sure he can come back from that. He’s fragile, vulnerable...so if you’re planning on abandoning him, do it now, while he’s asleep. I’ll release you from your contract. But if you drag this out, if you hurt him…”

Her hands clenched into fists. “...then you will have made an enemy.” She took a step closer, and even though she had the height and weight advantage, Maggie could feel herself wanting to retreat. “You do not want me as your enemy.” With her spleen now vented, Blye turned and stormed away, heading back inside.

“...I just found the little bastard!” Maggie protested, shouting at her back. “How is this my fault?”

The medic came to a halt and turned back around. “It must have been Fate,” she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Screw you!” Maggie screamed...but she was already gone.

----------------------------------------

It was sometime later before she worked up the courage to come back inside. Prash and Joona were making their rounds, tending to the Azha, who as a one avoided her gaze as she passed. She found Blye...no surprise...looking in on Diggs, clearing her throat to get her attention.

The medic turned, closing the door. “So...you’ve decided,” she said. “I will fix you something for your journey.” Her voice was cold and dismissive, as if she was gazing on something unpleasant.

“You got a lot of damn nerve, attacking me like that,” Maggie hissed, keeping her voice low, “considering you just give your own kids away like they were nothin’.”

Her eyes narrowed. “The difference is that my children were all infants,” she shot back, “too young to imprint on me the way Diggs has on you. Their memories are all of their families...and it’s for the best.”

“What makes you think it’s any different for me?” Maggie demanded. “If your life means you can’t drag kids around, what makes you think I can?”

“Perhaps you can’t,” Blye admitted, “but my position remains unchanged. Either leave now...or stay and accept the responsibility.” She folded her arms, awaiting her decision.

“Damn it, I don’t need this,” she snarled. “If my scooter had been working, I’d have been gone! Hell, I trashed it to save him!”

“You rescued a fellow Homo Sapiens,” Blye replied. “Congratulations...you’ve met the bare minimum standard of what it means to be human.”

“Don’t you dare judge me,” she growled, the blood roaring in her head, “you know nothing about me! You don’t know what my life has been like!”

“I don’t need to...and the question still stands. Are you leaving, or staying?”

Maggie wanted to wrap her hands around Blye’s pretty throat and throttle her, even though the Chevalier would make short work of her if she tried.

But before she could answer the door opened, as Diggs peered out of the gloom, his dissimilar eyes looking up at her, his unvoiced query impossible to ignore.

She sighed, ruffling his hair. “It’s okay, kid,” she said at last, the anger she’d felt draining away like a coolant leak, before meeting Blye’s gaze.

“...guess I’m staying,” Maggie mumbled at last.